Temporary Heroes
by IMTheresa
Summary: Sam is in the hospital and realizes something is going on. Can he and Dean figure it out before it targets Sam?
1. Chapter 1

**Temporary Heroes**

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I asked for Supernatural for Christmas, but all I got was an awesome Christmas episode. I still don't own them.

Author's Note: This story is nothing like what it started out to be, but I like it better than my original idea. I hope you all had a great holiday and that you enjoy my first story of 2008. As always, I'd love to know what you think. It's pretty well finished, so updates will be fairly quick. I just have to read, reread, and obsess over the details…..

oooOOOooo

I've seen all the downfalls  
Temporary heroes  
Misguided direction  
Longing for perfection  
Love and pain  
Only for the foolish  
Once again  
Try to hide what's there inside  
I'm the same, temporary hero  
Who's to blame

_Temporary Heroes written by N. Trevesick and J. Clee; performed by Pat Benetar_

oooOOOooo

Dean Winchester walked into the latest in a long line of shabby motel rooms carrying a plastic grocery bag and a six pack of beer. He dropped the bag on the bed closest to the door, which he kicked closed, and set the beer on the single shelf of the small refrigerator. He slipped out of his worn leather coat and tossed it onto an old recliner before going into the bathroom.

After a long, hot shower Dean felt better. While he shaved, he examined his face in the mirror and was surprised to see that his skin color was normal, not pallid, and the dark circles he'd gotten used to seeing under his eyes weren't as noticeable as usual.

He'd spent the last couple of weeks looking over his brother in the hospital, but since Sam came out of the coma a few days ago, Dean had been able to relax. He'd been able to sleep and he'd eaten almost regular meals. It was as close to normal as Dean had had been since his mother died at the hands of the yellow-eyed demon. He pushed the thought away and turned off the bathroom light as he walked through the door.

Dean slipped a clean t-shirt over his head before climbing into bed. He'd snuck a cheeseburger into the hospital and eaten with Sam earlier while they watched old sitcoms on television. Sam wasn't up to much more than soup yet, but he'd been able to keep scrambled eggs down that morning and the doctor said he would probably be released within a few days.

It was the longest either of them had ever been in a hospital, although Dean's time in the hospital after the Impala had been hit by a demon-possessed driver in a semi-truck came close. Dean knew he wouldn't truly feel complete until his younger brother was out of the hospital and with him again, but he'd been relieved when Sam came out of the coma and the tests showed there wouldn't be any lasting affects. The wrist he'd broken in a run-in with a zombie had been re-injured, but the doctor thought it would heal with no problems.

Dean fell asleep quickly and was still sleeping the next morning when his cell phone rang. Used to waking up suddenly and having to be on alert, Dean sat up and grabbed the phone from the night stand. He glanced at the caller ID display, but didn't recognize the number.

"Hello?"

"Dean, it's me."

"Sammy, what's up? What time is it?" he asked, looking toward the clock on the table.

"It's about 8:00. Can you come to the hospital?"

"You okay?"

"Yeah, but…."

"But what?" Dean asked, already out of bed and opening his duffel bag.

"I'll tell you when you get here."

"Are you all right? Did the doctor tell you someth—"

"No, it's nothing like that. I'm okay. I just….I think there's something going on here."

"Something going on? Like something supernatural?"

"Just come, okay?"

"I'll be right there, Sam."

It made sense for hospitals to be haunted; a lot of people died in them who weren't ready to go and sometimes the deaths were caused by violent acts. Dean knew he'd been distracted over the last couple of weeks, but he was sure he would have noticed something supernatural going on at the hospital. Nonetheless, he trusted his brother's instincts and dressed quickly.

---

Dean got to the hospital before visiting hours began, but the nurses on Sam's floor didn't try to stop him. He'd been coming and going pretty much as he wanted, but since Dean didn't cause problems, the nurses didn't even notice anymore.

Sam was sitting in a chair near the window when Dean walked in. One arm was wrapped around his midsection and there was a light sheen of sweat on his face.

"Sammy –"

"I'm okay, Dean," he said quickly. "You have to find –"

Sam grimaced, groaning. He gripped the edge of the table and Dean quickly crouched in front of him, reaching out for his arms. "Sammy, come on, let's get you back into bed."

"Dean…." Sam tried to protest, but in his weakened state, he was no match for his older brother. A few moments later, he was back in bed and Dean pulled the sheet up over him before going into the small private bathroom. He returned with a wet wash cloth and gently wiped Sam's forehead.

"What the hell were you doing?" Dean demanded, more concerned than angry.

"I saw something and I went to check it out."

"Sam, you spent almost two weeks in a coma –"

"I know what I saw!"

"That isn't where I was going, Sam. I was just going to say that you were in a coma, you have a couple of busted ribs….dude, you can't be running around the hospital like that."

Sam looked away, clearly irritated.

"Just tell me what you saw." Dean said as she sat on the chair next to Sam's bed.

"Last night I kept sensing things and every few minutes, I'd catch a glimpse of someone walking down the hallway. But it was more like a shadow or something nearly transparent than a real person."

Dean knew that his brother was still taking some fairly powerful medications and as much as he believed in Sam's instincts and his abilities, the most likely explanation for what he'd seen was not something supernatural. He looked at Sam.

"What do you mean sensing things? You were having visions?"

Sam shook his head. "No. No visions. But I heard noises and – Dean, I know what I saw."

"I didn't say anything," the older man protested.

"I can see it on your face. You don't believe me."

"That isn't true, Sam. Tell me what you saw this morning; what did you go after?"

Sam took an obviously painful deep breath that made Dean wince in sympathy.

"It looked like a shadow. I saw it against the wall over there earlier this morning," he paused and nodded toward the far wall of his room. "It was just kind of a blob without any definition to it. When it moved out into the hall –"

"You got out of bed and followed it," Dean finished for him. "No one else saw it?"

Sam shook his head. "Didn't seem to."

"And no one stopped your weak ass from wandering around?"

"The doctor said I should be going for short walks."

"Short walks, Sam. Not recon missions."

"Can we focus here?" Sam demanded.

Dean stared at him for a moment before relenting. "So, you followed this shadow. Where did it go?"

Sam glanced away.

"Sam?"

"The stairwell."

"You went into the stairwell? You climbed stairs?"

"Technically, I only went down. I took the elevator back up."

Dean wasn't trying very hard to control his anger, but he wanted to figure out what Sam had seen. "Just tell me what happened."

"I followed it down a couple of flights. It's almost like it wanted me to because it seemed to wait for me to catch up more than once. It led me out of the stairwell on the fourth floor and to the west side of the building. It stopped right outside the door to a children's ward and then just disappeared. I didn't think I could go in inconspicuously and besides…." He looked away from his brother's stare.

"You were about to pass out?" Dean guessed.

Sam didn't respond.

"So, you think there's something going on inside that children's ward?" Dean continued.

"I know I saw that shadow, Dean. It wasn't the medication or –"

"I never said I thought it was," Dean interrupted. "I'm not so sure I can get into a children's ward, either, but I'll see what I can do. You stay here. In bed. Don't move."

Dean went toward the door, but paused when Sam called his name.

"Thanks for believing me."

Dean saw the gratitude in Sam's eyes and heard the shy tone of his voice. He nodded and gave a small wave before opening the door and walking into the hallway.

---

Dean knew from experience that it was generally not easy to get into a children's ward unnoticed. There was almost less scrutiny with people in and around the pharmacy at many hospitals. He walked toward the elevator, thinking about the best way to proceed. He could go to the Impala and retrieve any number of devices that would only prove what he already knew – the hospital was full of spirits. How did that help him?

As Dean got off the elevator on the fourth floor, still uncertain what to do next, he saw what appeared to be a group of entertainers standing at the nurses' station to the left; the west side of the building. There were a couple of clowns, people holding guitars and what looked like a magician. He did his best to look like he was with the group as they were lead into the closed doors behind the nurses' station.

Another desk stood just inside the doors and there were a few kids in chairs and on a large couch beyond. As Dean followed the entertainers, his eyes took in every detail of his surroundings. There were rooms all around the play area that held the chairs and couch. He could see children in some of the rooms, some were hooked up to machines and others were maybe just too sick to get out of bed. He tried to concentrate on the laughter the clowns were causing rather than the pain the sicker kids must be feeling. He couldn't help but notice that some of the children were bald and he was afraid he knew what that meant.

Dean didn't see anything out of the ordinary, but he hadn't really expected to. A moment later he spotted a pretty young woman in scrubs and a animal print lab coat, standing along a wall and watching the children. She smiled as he approached.

"Are you looking for someone?" she asked.

"I'm with them," he said and nodded toward the entertainers.

"A roadie?" she laughed.

"Something like that," he said in his most charming tone. "So, the kids here –"

"Sick children are the worst," she said sadly. "I mean, it's never any fun to be sick, but it seems so much more unfair when it's a child. Surely you were told this is our cancer ward?"

He nodded sadly. That's what he had thought, but it was still gut-wrenching to hear it. Dean agreed with the young woman; it was unfair for kids to be sick.

"My name is Linda," Dean heard her say a moment later. "I'm a volunteer."

"Oh. I thought you were a nurse," he said and motioned toward her outfit.

"I start medical school soon, but I've been volunteering here for about four years. My little sister was a patient."

"Oh, I…."

Linda smiled again. "She was one of the lucky ones. She has leukemia, but it's been in remission for almost two years."

"That's great," Dean said, suddenly not sure of himself at all. "How old is she?"

"Almost eighteen."

He nodded and looked toward the magician for a moment as he pulled a coin from a giggling little boy's ear.

"You must know a lot about the hospital if you've been volunteering here for so long."

Linda shrugged. "I've spent most of my time in here with the cancer patients."

"Still, you must have some stories."

She looked at him with a hint of caution in her eyes.

"I'm only helping these guys for a little while," Dean said, trying to assuage her concern. "My real job is free-lance reporter. I write about mysterious places; unexplained things. Hospitals are full of that kind of thing."

He knew it was a bold lie, but he also knew he didn't have a lot of time. If something really was going on here, he had to get a lead on it soon.

"The paranormal?" Linda smiled. "I don't believe in that stuff."

"I never said I believed it; I said I write about it."

"I'm sorry, but I don't have any stories like that. I have to get to work," she said and smiled at him again. "It was nice to meet you."

A few minutes later the guitarists were performing as the magician and clowns went from room to room. Dean watched, again trying to figure out what to do next. He saw someone coming toward him from the corner of his eye and he turned. It was an older woman, possibly in her 60's, wearing a uniform similar to Linda's.

"Are you really a reporter?" she asked in a confidential tone.

"Uh, yeah."

"I heard you and Linda talking. She's a good kid, but a little naïve."

"What do you mean?"

"This is a hospital. People die here all the time," she said, smiling sadly. "It's full of ghosts."

Dean was surprised. It wasn't the first time he'd run into someone who was a true believer. It wasn't even the first time he'd met someone willing to talk about their beliefs. But it generally didn't happen within the first few moments of meeting.

"I've spent a lot of time here; heard a lot of stories," she continued. "Seen a few things myself."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

She looked around conspiratorially. "I've seen a ghost or two."

"Really," Dean realized this woman was his only source of information for the moment, but she didn't strike him as all that reliable. On the other hand, he didn't have anywhere else to turn for now. "How about we grab a cup of coffee and talk for a little while?"

"I can't right now. The volunteers are scheduled just like the nurses," she said, smiling. "I'm off at 3:00. How about a cup of coffee down the street?"

Dean nodded. "I'll be there."

---

When Dean got back to Sam's room, he was propped up in bed and his eyes were closed. Dean lifted the lid on the food tray that had been left on a table near the bed and saw it had not been touched. Sam woke up when Dean put the tray back on the plate.

"Dean –"

"I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep."

"What did you find out?"

Dean knew it would do no good to avoid the question. Sam wouldn't go back to sleep until he had the answer.

"Why don't you eat while I tell you?" he suggested, nodding toward the tray.

"I'm not hungry."

"Sam, you –"

"Dean, please. Just tell me."

The older man sat on the edge of the bed and told Sam about what he'd learned in the children's ward.

"I know it's not much, but –"

"So, you'll meet the old woman for coffee?" Sam asked eagerly.

"Yeah, I will, but don't count on her being reliable, Sammy."

"I'm not," he said in a tone that said just the opposite to Dean. "Is my computer in the car?"

"Yeah, but you need to rest."

"Please get it for me."

Dean knew that protesting would be useless. He sighed. "I'll get it, but you have to eat something."

"Dean…."

"One forkful of eggs or one slice of toast," Dean said as he removed the lid from the tray again. "It's still warm. Sort of."

"I'll eat lunch," Sam promised. "Please get the laptop; I can start researching the hospital and –"

Dean held up a hand. "All right. As long as you remember that you're here to recuperate."

Sam looked at him with gratitude and affection. "I know."

Dean looked at him for a moment before standing up. "I'll be back."

---

Dean didn't want to get the laptop for Sam. He didn't want there to be a case here. He had come too close to losing his brother and just wanted him to get better so he could take Sam out of the hospital and move on.

Their last job had been harder than they'd been expecting. They'd gotten a call from Bobby Singer, a friend and old contact of their father's, asking them to take care of a salting and burning in a small Midwestern town. He'd heard about it from someone he'd known for a long time and knew the brothers were in the area. It should have been a simple in and out job because Bobby's contact knew who the ghost was and where the body was buried. He would have handled it himself had he not been almost 80 and in poor health.

Unfortunately, even the simple jobs were dangerous. While the brothers were digging up the body, the ghost figured out what was going on and tried to stop them. Sam took the brunt of his anger. He managed to toss Sam around while Dean tried to repel him with rock salt, but when another ghost appeared, Dean's attention was divided. Sam was thrown into a large marble monument and hit his head, knocking him out. Dean was able to repel both of the spirits and finish the job, sustaining a few minor injuries of his own.

Hospitals were always a last resort for the Winchesters. Anyplace that required identification and created a paper trail could post a problem. But when Dean couldn't rouse Sam, he knew he had no choice. Sam's wrist was already swollen by the time Dean had filled in the grave and although he could set a broken bone, this same wrist had been injured before and Dean was afraid it might need surgery.

Dean made up a plausible story that kept the police out of things and he knew the phony insurance card would work. But when Sam slipped into a coma, all he could think about was losing his brother and that was just unacceptable. He'd been in a panic until Sam regained consciousness several days later and the thought of rushing right back into a job was not at all appealing.

Sam was driven, though, and Dean knew that. Dean also knew if the tables were turned and it was him in the hospital, he'd be every bit as eager to get to the bottom of things. That didn't change the way he felt right now, though. But not helping Sam would only push him to do more than he should, so Dean had no choice but to give in. He realized that there might be nothing going on in the hospital; it could all be part of Sam's head injury, but he owed it to his brother to check it out.

---

"You said you'd eat lunch," Dean pointed out later. He'd left Sam alone to research for a while, but came back to make sure his brother was still following orders. Dean had done a little more digging on his own, but hadn't come up with anything helpful.

Sam only glanced at the food tray, quickly turning his attention back to the laptop and rubbing his forehead.

"Sam," Dean put the car magazine aside and stood up.

"I'm not hungry, Dean," he said, his tone plaintive.

Dean suddenly remembered a much younger Sam, studying for a test and foregoing meals. That's what he did when he got focused on something. Even when he wasn't in the hospital, Dean often had to urge him to eat.

"You have to eat, Sam. You need to get your strength back."

Sam glanced at Dean and then sighed. He put the laptop aside and pulled the rolling table toward the bed before removing the lid from the tray. Dean saw his brother scowl at the broth as he picked up half of an unappealing turkey sandwich.

"You gonna keep staring at me?" Sam asked.

"I might."

"I'm okay, you know."

"You're not okay until the doctor signs the release papers."

Sam took a few bites from the sandwich. "I'm sorry I ended up in the hospital."

"It's not your fault," Dean said quietly.

"I know the whole coma thing freaked you out."

"That's not your fault, either," Dean looked at him. "You feeling better than this morning?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. I probably shouldn't have followed that shadow, but I had to, Dean."

Dean sighed. "I know ya did. Just…."

"What?" Sam prompted.

"Just take care of yourself, okay? I want to take you out of here soon."

Sam took another bite of the sandwich and nodded at his brother.

---

Dean walked into the coffee shop just after 3:00. He didn't see the woman from the hospital, but figured it would take her at least a few minutes to get there. He ordered a cup of coffee and settled at a table near the windows. He had just about lost hope that she would show up when he saw her coming from the parking lot next door. She waved to him as she walked past and after ordering coffee, she joined him at the table.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she smiled. "I was helping with one of the children."

"Not a problem."

"My name is Marcy, by the way. Marcy Jenkins."

"Dean Rollins," he responded.

"What kinds of places do you write for?" she asked after taking a sip from her cup.

Dean was confused at first, but quickly remembered his cover story of being a freelance reporter. "Anything that will have me. So, you said you had seen ghosts…."

"I imagine there are a lot of them in a hospital," she said sadly. "All those deaths."

Dean nodded. "I suppose so."

Marcy looked thoughtful. "They sometimes have volunteers come in the evenings. It's not often because things are quieter then, but sometimes if there are a lot of patients or not enough nurses, they'll have senior volunteers come in. That's when I've seen the ghosts."

"Tell me about them."

"I don't spend much time elsewhere in the hospital. I'm almost always at the ward or on my way there. I've seen things out of the corner of my eye and I've full-on run into a ghost before. Usually it's a little thing, like the children in the ward."

"Children have died in the ward?"

"Usually when they're at that point, they're in ICU or somewhere else, but it's happened in the ward before. It's not good for the other children to see it, you understand."

Dean nodded. He knew that it didn't matter if the person had died in the ward or not; the ghosts would have free rein of the entire hospital.

"Have you ever seen a shadow?" he asked, wanting to cut to the chase.

The old woman nodded. "I haven't seen them myself, but I've heard others talk about them."

"What have you heard?"

"They or it – I'm not sure if there's more than one show up on the walls or anywhere else that has a flat surface. Sometimes there's whispering when they're around. Once in a while it's like they try to get someone's attention."

"Do you know anyone who has seen it who would be willing to talk to me about these shadows?"

"Maybe. I can't promise anything until I've talked to them first."

"Sure." Dean still wasn't sure how he felt about this woman, but thought she might a least lead him to useful information.

She smiled slyly. "Are you sure you aren't just making an old woman feel good by pretending to believe her?"

"Not at all," Dean promised. "But I'd like to speak to someone as soon as possible."

She opened her purse and pulled out a small ring bound binder. After flipping through a few pages, she paused to write something down and tore out the page. "Give me a call tomorrow. That's my home number."

Dean wrote down his cell phone number for her and a few minutes later they parted ways. Before leaving the coffee shop, Dean bought a slice of pound cake for Sam. The doctor might not approve and it wasn't exactly healthy, but it was something he knew his brother would eat.

_TBC_


	2. Chapter 2

**Temporary Heroes**

Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: Wow, I'm overwhelmed and thrilled with the reviews and private messages! I'm feeling a little pressure now…..Oh, and I guess I should have mentioned this story takes place sometime in season two.

oooOOOooo

Love and pain  
Only for the foolish  
Once again  
Try to hide what's there inside  
I'm the same, temporary hero  
Who's to blame

_Temporary Heroes written by N. Trevesick and J. Clee; _

_performed by Pat Benetar_

oooOOOooo

Sam was asleep when Dean walked into his room. The computer was on the bed next to him, but it had been shut down. Dean was glad to see he hadn't fallen asleep while researching. Moving quietly, he packed it away in its bag and then settled in a chair next to Sam's bed. A nurse came in a few minutes later to check on the patient. Dean liked her; she had let him stay with Sam when he was first admitted, even going so far as bringing him a blanket and pillow. She'd had a reclining chair moved into the room when it became clear that Dean would be spending a lot of time there.

"He's doing much better," she said, smiling at Dean. "The doctor is talking about releasing him in a couple of days."

"That's great news." Dean couldn't help but notice the nurse held a slight resemblance to his mother. She looked to be about the same age as his mother would have been as well.

"Can I get you anything? We've got fresh coffee at the nurses' station."

"I'm fine, thanks."

"That contraband for your brother?" she asked, nodding toward the bag that held the pound cake. Dean had left it on the bedside table.

"Uh, no. Of course not."

She smiled again. "I'll make sure he gets some milk to wash it down."

Dean returned the smile. "Thanks."

"We'll be bringing dinner in soon. See what you can do about getting him to eat. The doctor is concerned that he's not eating more."

"He's never been much of an eater," Dean said.

"Well, if he wants to get out of here, he's going to have to at least fake it for a few days," she walked toward the door. "But I'd better not catch you eating any of his food."

"Yes ma'am." Dean was surprised by how comfortable he felt with this woman.

Left alone with his brother, Dean leaned forward and watched him closely. He had a silly urge to brush the always too-long bangs out of his eyes, but he didn't do it. After a few minutes he sat back in the chair and relaxed. Sam was getting better and would be released soon. He could stop worrying. He could; but he wouldn't. He'd spent most of his life worrying about Sam and it wasn't a habit that would be easily broken.

Dean had just started to doze when he heard a slight whimper from his brother. Immediately alert, Dean sat up and moved to his side. Sam jerked awake a moment later, wincing at the pain it caused.

"Easy," Dean cautioned as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Sam said, trying to control his breathing. "What time is it?"

"Almost 5:00."

"You talked to the old woman?"

"Yeah. She knows people who have seen the same kind of shadows you saw. She's going to see if any of them will talk to me."

"Anything else?"

"Not a whole lot. She said she's seen ghosts, but it's the shadows we're interested in, right?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "You need to move."

Dean stood up and tried to help Sam as he got out of bed, but he was waved off. He sat back on the chair while Sam made his way to the bathroom. Dean felt almost a physical pain watching his brother move. It was obvious that he was hurting.

Sam was just lowering himself into a chair a few minutes later when the dinner tray was dropped off. Dean sat across from him.

"Did you find anything on the computer?"

"Not really. I checked a few local paranormal sites and there are stories and rumors about the hospital, but we both know all hospitals are full of ghosts."

"And you think the shadow you saw was some kind of spirit?"

Sam nodded and he pushed around the chicken on his plate. "I think it was trying to show me something in that ward."

"If Marcy doesn't come through, I'll figure something else out."

Sam nodded again, still playing with the food.

"Okay, Sammy, what's the deal? I know hospital food isn't any good, but why aren't you eating?"

Sam didn't say anything.

"Dude," Dean looked at him.

"I don't feel good, okay? My whole body hurts. My head feels like it's going to explode."

"Well, no joke, Sammy. You're in a hospital with busted ribs and a head injury. Did you tell the nurse? You can get more pain meds."

"I don't want more pain meds," Sam said quietly.

"Why not?"

"I just don't."

"Sam," Dean began softly. "It's stupid to hurt when you don't have to. And if it's so bad that you can't eat, that's just going to make it longer before the doctor releases you. I'm kind of starting to miss your snoring."

Sam smiled crookedly. "I don't miss yours."

"Nice. Hey, I brought you something." Dean retrieved the piece of cake from the bedside table and sat back down across from Sam. He saw his brother's interest. "But you have to eat some of your dinner first."

"I'm not six, man."

Dean showed him what was in the bag. "Then stop acting like it and ask for more pain medication."

"Can't I just have the cake?"

Dean couldn't help but smile at the juvenile tone to his brother's voice and he pushed the bag toward him. "I'm going to talk to the nurse. Do you feel like eating anything? I'll can go out and find –"

"I wouldn't mind some real soup. Not that broth crap they brought for lunch."

"I'll be back," Dean said as Sam took a bite of the cake and then reached for the glass of milk that Dean knew had been added by the nurse he liked so much.

He stopped at the nurses' station and Marie, the one who looked like his mother, glanced up from the computer terminal and smiled at him. "Hey. Did you get him to eat?"

"Not exactly. He's in a lot of pain and –"

She nodded. "I'll get him something right away."

"Thanks. He said he'd like some real soup. Would it be okay if I brought something in for him?"

"I think I can look the other way," she smiled again. "He's not technically on a restricted diet, but we're adding things slowly since he hadn't eaten for a while. Any kind of soup should be all right. There's a grocery store not too far away that has a deli and they make the best minestrone."

"Thanks."

"Take a left out of the parking lot and you'll see it on your right in a couple of miles."

Dean nodded and walked toward the elevator.

He found the grocery store with no problem and picked up a sandwich for himself in addition to the minestrone for Sam. As he was driving back to the hospital, Marcy, the volunteer from the children's ward called to tell him she'd passed on his number to one of the nurses who had gotten transferred from the night shift. She had agreed to talk to him and said she would call the next day.

Back at the hospital, Dean was relieved to find Sam more relaxed. He ate all of the soup and even a couple of bites of Dean's sandwich. Dean told him about the phone call from Marcy, but the drowsiness from the pain medication had started to affect him and Sam's reaction was less than enthused. Dean helped him back into bed and sat with him for several minutes even after he'd fallen asleep.

---

Dean wasn't used to being left to his own devices and wasn't sure what he wanted to do. The idea of going back to the motel room alone didn't appeal to him, but he knew there was no point in sitting at the hospital. He thought about going to a movie, but that didn't seem fair to Sam somehow. He pulled into a parking lot and called Bobby to give him an update on Sam's condition and to get his take on the shadow spirit.

Bobby told him that he had heard of similar manifestations before, though he'd never come across one himself.

"Remember not all spirits are out to hurt people," Bobby cautioned. "They're not all pissed off ghosts. Technically a spirit and a ghost are different, anyway."

"I know," Dean admitted. "So, you think this thing that Sam saw was really trying to show him something?"

"It's possible. Talk to that nurse tomorrow and see what she has to say. I'll check my books and see what I can find."

"Okay. Thanks, Bobby."

"So, how you doin', kid?"

"I'm all right. I'm not the one in the hospital."

"Yeah, but I know how you get."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked. He wasn't angry; Bobby knew him well enough to know that he'd give his right arm to keep Sam safe and hated having to be away from him.

"You know damn well what that means," Bobby said gruffly. "Stay out of trouble."

"I will."

"See that you do. Call me after you've talked to someone who has seen the shadow," Bobby's tone softened. "Or, if you need anything."

"Thanks, Bobby."

After ending the call, Dean considered his options and ended up at a bar not too far from the motel. He did a little drinking and a little flirting, but ended up leaving alone.

oooOOOooo

"What do you want me to tell him?"

Marcy looked at her friend. "The truth."

"What do you think he can do? He's just a reporter."

Marcy took a sip of tea from a bone china cup. "He's no reporter."

"Then what is he?"

"I don't know exactly. But he's someone who can help us."

"How do you know?"

The old woman nodded toward a matching cup on the counter across the room. "I saw it in the tea leaves. I knew he was coming."

"You and your tea leaves," the other woman scoffed. "No one reads tea leaves any more."

"I do. And they've never led me wrong. Meet with him as soon as you can and tell him the truth." Marcy looked at her steadily. "The whole truth."

"Why couldn't you tell him? You know as much as I do."

"It's your story to tell. I'll come with you if you want, but you need to talk to him."

The other woman sighed. "I'll talk to him. But I'm not promising anything."

oooOOOooo

Dean got to the hospital just as visiting hours started. He found that Sam was feeling better and glad to hear he'd eaten all of the scrambled eggs provided for breakfast. As they slowly walked to the patient recreation room, Sam told Dean that he was scheduled for another CAT scan later in the day and if it showed no problems, the doctor said he would release him the next day.

The recreation room was at the other end of the long hallway, but Sam had a hard time walking even that far and ended up leaning on Dean for support. It surprised Dean that the doctor would consider releasing him when he was still in so much pain, but they had both checked themselves out of hospitals in worse shape before. Besides, they knew more than basic first aid and it wasn't necessary to sit in a hospital bed for ribs to heal.

They were alone in the room and settled on chairs with a view of a pond outside.

"I'll bring back some clothes for you after I meet with the nurse Marcy put me in touch with. I asked her if she'd be willing to talk with us both, but she didn't want to talk about it in the hospital."

Sam nodded, obviously in pain. Dean looked at him closely. "The doctor is sure you're ready to go tomorrow if the CAT scan is clear?"

"You know how rib injuries are. They hurt like hell."

"You're taking pain medication?"

"Yes," Sam said, sounding somewhat exasperated.

"Doesn't seem to be helping much."

"It's probably almost time for more." Sam put his head on the back of the chair.

"I'm telling you right now, Sam, if the doctor lets you go tomorrow, I'm going to keep you drugged up until you've completely healed."

"You realize we're not leaving town until we figure out what's going on here, right?"

"I figured. But you're in no shape to do much more than sit in the motel room and research."

Sam looked dejected. "I know."

"It won't be for long. Once your ribs have healed you can start working out again and you'll be back to your annoying little brother self in no time." Dean grinned at him. "Of course, you're pretty annoying when you don't feel good, too."

"Nice, Dean. I'm suffering here and you're making jokes."

"Maybe you wouldn't be suffering so much if you'd take the pain medication like you should be."

Sam scowled at him, then looked toward the window. "Is it cold outside?"

Dean talked to him about life outside of the hospital and when he was feeling a little better, Dean helped him back to his room. A nurse came in a few minutes later with another dose of medication and it wasn't long until Sam was asleep.

oooOOOooo

Dean walked into the same coffee shop where he'd met Marcy the day before and after ordering, he sat at the same table. It wasn't long before she and another woman joined him. Marcy introduced Joanna Sweeney and they spent a few moments engaging in small talk.

"Dean," Marcy said, glancing at her friend. "We know you aren't a reporter."

His expression remained neutral. When he started to speak, Marcy held up a hand. "Don't bother trying to convince me; I have it on good authority."

"Tea leaves," Joanna muttered and Dean looked at her.

"Tea leaves?"

"I read tea leaves," Marcy said. "I don't know what you are, but you're not a reporter. I think you're someone who can help us, though."

"Help you?" Dean was confused. "What do you mean?"

The women exchanged a look and then Marcy spoke. "There's something going on inside that hospital."

oooOOOooo

Sam heard whispering. At least it sounded like whispering. Maybe if he didn't know he was in a hospital it would have sounded like rats scurrying instead. He lay still, listening and trying to figure out the source of the sound. He didn't think Dean was there and he didn't sense anyone else in the room with him. Maybe it was the orderly who was supposed to take him for the CAT scan.

He opened his eyes, but the darkness was complete and he couldn't even make out shapes. That wasn't right, he knew. It was daytime. Wasn't it? Even if he'd somehow slept through the entire day, it was never completely dark in a hospital. He should be able to see light coming from the hallway if nothing else.

He could still hear the whispering. He moved his hand, searching for the bed railing to assure himself he was still in the hospital. He felt the cold metal and decided the pain medication had caused whatever was happening. That had to be it.

Sam closed his eyes and waited. The noise seemed to be all around him and when he felt something light touch his skin, he opened his eyes again. The blackness was still absolute, darker than anything he'd ever experienced before. He felt hands on his arms and he panicked.

oooOOOooo

After leaving the coffee shop, Dean sat in the Impala and dialed Bobby's number. He told Bobby every unbelievable thing the women had told him and had just ended the call when his cell phone rang. He listened to the voice on the other end, already heading toward the hospital before the nurse had a chance to request that he come. He called Bobby again.

---

Marie called his name as Dean rushed past the nurses' station on his way to Sam's room. He didn't want to stop, but forced himself. She came out from behind the desk and put a gentle hand on his arm.

"Sam isn't in his room," she explained. "He's having some tests done."

"How long will they take?"

"It shouldn't be too long. I told him that we'd gotten in touch with you and that you were coming. That calmed him down enough so that we didn't have to sedate him."

"He was getting better. What happened?"

"The doctor will be able to explain everything once he's seen the test results. You can wait in Sam's room if you like, or in the waiting room. Can I get you anything?"

Dean shook his head. "No. Thanks."

He walked into Sam's room and looked around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary except that his brother wasn't there. He was supposed to be able to take Sam out of here tomorrow; he'd been sure the CAT scan would show nothing and the doctor would release him. Now this….

Dean turned to the door as Sam was brought back into the room. He wasn't even sure how much time had passed.

"Is my brother here?" Sam sounded scared. "Dean?"

"I'm here, Sammy," Dean moved closer to the bed and put his hand on Sam's shoulder. "I'm here."

Sam reached out for his brother and grabbed the bottom of Dean's coat. "Dean…."

"It's okay, Sammy."

"It's not okay, man, I can't see!"

"Sam, listen to me. You have to stay calm, okay?" Dean glanced at the orderly as he finished securing the bed and walked out of the room.

"Dean…."

Dean felt the tug of his jacket and heard the fearful tone of Sam's voice. He sat on the edge of the bed keeping physical contact with his brother.

"We'll fix this, Sam. Okay? You hear me? We'll fix this."

"Are we alone?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I felt something, Dean. Before? I woke up and couldn't see anything and I felt something touch me. And I heard voices; it sounded like people whispering. Dean, something was in here. I know it."

"What did it feel like?"

"At first it was just a light touch; almost like a feather. But I felt hands, too. Dean, if I can't see, how am I going to hunt or –"

"Let's just take this one step at a time, okay? Has the doctor talked to you yet?"

"No. He's supposed to come after he's looked at all the tests. Dean, you have to keep hunting. You have to find the thing that killed Mom and Dad. I'll live with Bobby or something, but –"

"Hold on, Sam." Dean's voice was firm. "Now, we're going to listen to what the doctor has to say and go from there, okay? And if you think I'm going to abandon you –"

"You have to do it for Mom and Dad, Dean." Sam sounded frantic.

Dean could see his brother was becoming agitated and his tone was unmistakable. It wasn't any wonder with what had happened in only the last few hours. He hated the way Sam's eyes didn't focus and he knew that Sam was afraid. His entire life, such that it was, had started to crumble. Eyesight was an important sense and without it, Sam wouldn't be able to hunt. He wouldn't easily be able to research; he'd have to learn to do things all over again.

The older man shook those thoughts off. This condition was temporary. It had to be. He turned his attention back to Sam, hearing the shallow breathing and seeing the sheen of perspiration on his forehead. He didn't need to look at the monitor to know his heart rate was up.

"Sam, listen to me okay? You have to listen to me here. I want you to take a deep breath before you hyperventilate. I know it's hard, but you have to relax, okay? I'm here. I'm going to stay here. I'll be here when the doctor comes and tells us this is just temporary. Whatever it is," he touched the side of Sam's face gently. "We'll tackle it together, okay?"

"I'm scared, Dean."

Sam was generally open and honest. He didn't often hide his feelings or hide behind the same types of walls that Dean did. Still, Dean knew it wasn't easy for him to admit fear. He put a hand on top of Sam's and felt as Sam slipped it inside of Dean's. He remembered when Sam was little, they would walk hand in hand. When Dean felt too old to hold his father's hand, he still would hold onto Sam when they were in public. Even at home, where ever that happened to be, if something scared Sam, he wanted to hold someone's hand. Usually it was Dean's because their father spent so much time away. It had been a long time since they'd held hands, but it felt comfortable and Dean didn't pull away.

"I know you're scared, Sammy. But what have I always told you?"

"What?" Sam asked, clearly trying to relax.

"Nothing bad is gonna happen to you as long as I'm around."

Sam squeezed his brother's hand and lay back against the bed. "Tell me about the nurse you met with."

Dean was surprised. "What?"

"What did she tell you?"

"Are you sure you want to do this now?"

"Why not?" Sam smiled sadly.

Dean took a deep breath. "Her name is Joanna and she's been a nurse for about a hundred years. I'm not so sure she and Marcy have told me everything they know, or if they're even telling me the truth."

"Marcy is the volunteer?"

Dean nodded, then remembered that Sam couldn't see him. "Yeah. Get this – she reads tea leaves."

"Seriously?"

"That's what she says. That's how she knew I wasn't a reporter."

"A report….whatever. What did she say about the shadows?"

Dean noticed that Sam seemed a little more relaxed. He was still holding fast to Dean's hand, but he didn't seem as anxious as he had.

"At first she thought they were just another form of the ghosts she'd been seeing."

"The ghosts didn't bother her?" Sam sounded surprised.

"That's another weird thing. Marcy and Joanna go from hospital to hospital following this shadow thing."

"They're hunters?" Sam's tone was disbelieving.

"Not exactly. Not like us or the hunters we know, but I guess. In a way."

"So, they've been following the shadows. What do they know?"

Dean was about to respond when the door opened. He felt Sam tense and he squeezed his brother's hand. "It's the doctor, Sammy."

He didn't relax. Dean shifted so that he was still touching Sam, but could also see the doctor. He didn't like his expression.

"How are you feeling, Sam? How's the headache?"

Dean looked at his brother.

"It's better," Sam paused. "What did the tests show?"

"Well, unfortunately, nothing conclusive. The most likely explanation, and easiest to treat, is something called papilledema."

"What is that?" Dean asked.

"It's a swelling of the optic nerve caused by an increase in fluid pressure within the skull. It sometimes happens due to a head injury. The visual examination wasn't definite; there's some swelling that wasn't there before, but we also did a CAT scan and an MRI. There's no damage to the brain and that's the good news. As I said, the tests aren't conclusive, which is somewhat unusual. I'd like to start treatment for swelling; intravenous corticosteroids. We'll watch closely, but once the swelling is relieved, the vision should return."

"See, Sammy? It's just temporary." Dean encouraged.

"We'll take it one step at a time," the doctor cautoned. "There could still be another underlying cause."

The doctor said and spent the next few minutes talking about other possible causes for Sam's condition. "A nurse will be in soon to start the IV. I guess you'll be enjoying our hospitality for a little longer."

"Thanks, Doc," Dean said. Once they were alone, he patted Sam's leg. "The news wasn't so bad."

"Finish telling me about Joanna."

"Sam…."

"Tell me!" he demanded angrily.

Dean knew the news from the doctor wasn't as positive as he'd tried to pretend. Dean also knew that Sam was scared and while he wanted to know what was going on in the hospital, he also needed something to keep his mind off of what was going on with him.

"They first discovered the shadow 10 or so years ago when they were both working in a hospital in New Orleans. They've been moving from hospital to hospital ever since, following its trail. Or maybe just following stories; they're not sure if it's the same shadow or not. The only thing they know for sure is that patients who report seeing it get well unexplainably."

"That's not what happened to me," Sam said unhappily.

Dean had thought of that. He recognized that the old women had some useful information, but he didn't think they'd put all of the pieces together correctly. His brother's condition was proof of that.

"I know, Sammy," he said sympathetically. "I got a start from the old biddies, but I don't think they know as much as they think they do."

"Or maybe they just haven't told you everything they know."

"You think?"

"Like that's never happened."

"Good point."

"You have to admit that you aren't at your best with old women. You read the young, hot ones much better."

Dean looked at him and saw the hint of a smile on Sam's face.

"Yeah, maybe." He looked toward the door when it opened.

"Dean?" Sam whispered.

"It's okay, Sam. It's just me. Marie. I'm going to get your IV started." Her voice was soothing and she explained each step before she did it. Dean could see that she was putting Sam at ease and he was grateful for that.

Once she was gone, Sam settled back against the pillows. "Dean?"

"I'm still here." He sat down on the edge of the bed.

"You gotta work on this case, Dean. I know you don't like doing the research, but you're good at it. You –"

"Right now I think I need to hang out with my pain in the ass little brother."

"I'll be okay. I'm tired. I'm just gonna go to sleep for a while."

"Are you sure? Really sure?"

"We have a responsibility to –"

"Sam, my first responsibility is to you. I didn't tell you this before, but I called Bobby and he's on his way. I don't want you to worry about this case – hell, those two old women are probably nuts anyway."

"What about what I saw? What I felt?"

"All the more reason that I hang out here."

Sam held a fistful of blanket, but Dean could see he was trying to appear calm.

"Dean?" he asked after a few moments.

"Yeah?"

"The doctor didn't seem too sure about the diagnosis."

"The medicine will work."

"What if it doesn't? Without sight, I'll be a huge liability to you."

"You'd never be a liability, Sam. Just give it some time, okay?

"What if it has something to do with the shadow?"

"Then I'll fix it."

Sam nodded and closed his eyes. He was asleep a few minutes later and Dean sank into the recliner with his brother's laptop. At first he tried to research the job, but he quickly turned his attention to the conditions the doctor talked about. All he found was bad news and a bunch of maybes. He wasn't sure which was worse – a physical cause or a supernatural one.

_TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

**Temporary Heroes**

Chapter 3

Author's Note: We still have a ways to go…..thanks for coming along for the ride!

oooOOOooo

Fear grows in darkness; if you think there's a bogeyman around, turn on the light.

_Dorothy Thompson_

oooOOOooo

Dean was dozing when he heard his brother call out, his tone panicked.

"I'm here, Sammy." He put the laptop aside and rushed to Sam's side. "You're okay."

"I was hoping it was a nightmare," Sam said as he lay back against the pillows, gripping the edge of Dean's shirt. "But it wasn't."

"No. But it's not going to last."

"I need to go to the bathroom," Sam said. He started to toss away the blanket, but stopped.

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"I – I can't see. I –"

"It's okay. I'll help you. You have to take the IV with you, so hold on for a second."

Dean stood up and took a moment to organize things before helping Sam out of bed. He led Sam across the room, but the younger man insisted on going into the bathroom alone. It took longer than normal, but when Sam came out he had a look of accomplishment on his face. He waved off Dean's help and made his way back to bed himself. It was slow going and he ran into the recliner, but he made it.

"Don't you ever go home?" Dean asked Marie lightly when she came into the room a few minutes later with the dinner tray.

"We're short handed, so I agreed to work an extra shift. How are you feeling, Sam?"

"I've been better."

"I'm sure you have," she put the tray on the table and rolled it toward the bed. 'You got the junk food special tonight. There's some pizza that isn't half bad and a soft drink. There's even apple pie for dessert. Don't tell anyone, but the pizza is from what we had delivered for the nursing staff tonight and there's enough here for your brother, too."

Sam only nodded.

"Thanks," Dean said.

She smiled at him briefly, then turned back to Sam even though he couldn't see her. "If you feel like taking a walk, feel free. Just take it easy and don't try to go too far."

Again, Sam said nothing.

She put a hand on Sam's arm, but spoke to Dean. "Dean, if you want to take a break, I'll stay with Sam. You can go downstairs to check your voicemail since you can't use your phone up here."

Dean looked at her, surprised.

"Go ahead, Dean," Sam said, his voice despondent. "Bobby might have called."

"I'll be back in five minutes," Dean said. "Okay, Sammy?"

"I'll be okay."

Dean patted his leg before heading out of the room.

---

"Do you want a slice of pizza?" Marie asked Sam.

"Not now, thanks."

"Maybe when your brother gets back. What about something to drink?"

"Sure."

"It's a canned soda. Do you want it in a cup?"

"The can is fine."

She opened it and helped Sam grasp it. "There's an empty spot on the tray for it; it's right in front of your hand."

"Thanks," he said and took a few sips.

"Your brother is worried about you," she said. "He cares about you very much."

"Yeah, he does," Sam whispered.

"It's nice to see two brothers as close as you seem to be."

"We are close."

"It must be comforting."

"Yeah."

"You know, it might be a good idea for him to stay here with you tonight. Of course the staff is here, but it might be nice to have your brother here if you wake up and –"

"And realize I can't see?"

"It's going to be disconcerting for you. Hopefully the medication will work quickly, but for the time being…."

"I'm sure Dean will want to stay," Sam said.

"You mentioned a name before. Bobby? Who is that?"

"Friend of the family. Dean called him and he's on his way here."

"Do you have other family?" Marie asked.

"No. It's just me and Dean now. Our mom died when we were kids and our dad….He died not so long ago. Bobby's like family, though."

"Well, I'm glad you have him, then."

"Yeah. I have Dean, but my brother….he depends on Bobby a lot right now. Dean and our dad were really close and his death….well, it's hard for Dean."

"Everyone needs someone they can depend on," Marie said.

Sam only nodded.

"I know you were just passing through when you had your accident. Where do you live?"

"No where in particular right now. We're kind of on an extended road trip. Just me and Dean."

"I'm sure you've meet a lot of interesting people. Seen a lot of interesting things."

Sam paused, wishing he could see the expression on Marie's face. He'd used those exact words himself when talking to Dr. Ellicott in Rockford the previous year when he and Dean were investigating the haunted asylum. Something about the nurse had seemed familiar before and he still felt it now that he could only hear her voice.

"I saw the car your brother drives," Marie continued. "I knew someone who had one just like it."

"It belonged to our dad, but he gave it to Dean for his 18th birthday. They used to spend hours under the hood of that thing. Dad taught Dean all about cars."

"It doesn't sound like you and your dad were very close," Marie said. Sam thought he heard regret in her voice.

"We fought a lot, but I loved my dad. I know now that he did his best. You know, I don't even know why I'm telling you all this stuff."

"I shouldn't be asking so many questions. It's none of my business. It's just….well, sometimes it's nice to talk and easier to do it with a stranger."

"Sometimes," Sam agreed.

"You can talk to me if you want, Sam. I'm here to help you."

"Thanks," he said over the lump in his throat.

Dean was back a few minutes later and Marie left them alone.

---

It was a quiet night. With the help of medication Sam slept through, but Dean woke up several times. Every time Sam shifted or someone came in to check on him, Dean was on alert. He was tired the next morning and almost glad that Sam couldn't see the dark circles under his eyes.

Dean helped Sam with breakfast and then helped him clean up. The younger man's mood was bleak and he didn't talk much; every movement seemed to be at Dean's urging. The doctor came in to examine Sam. The swelling of the optic never was starting to go down, but he seemed concerned that Sam's eyesight had not started to return yet.

"Thanks for staying here last night," Sam said after several minutes of silence once the doctor had gone.

"I think that chair is more comfortable than the bed in the motel room," Dean said, keeping his tone light.

"I've been thinking –"

"That can't be good."

Sam ignored the jibe. "We shouldn't stay here much longer. That insurance card you gave the hospital –"

"It's fine, Sam."

"We're not that far from the last job and… I think I should leave with Bobby. You can finish up here and –"

"Sam, we don't leave until we can leave together. And in case you've forgotten, you're on an intravenous medication."

Sam was about to respond when the door opened. Dean was already used to his brother's alarm when he didn't know who was coming in and he put a hand on his wrist. "Hey, Bobby."

"Boys," the voice was gruff, but it held a touch of affection for the brothers. The old man sat on the edge of the bed and touched Sam's arm. "How ya doin' there, kid?"

"Just great," Sam said. Dean didn't miss the sarcasm and he was sure Bobby hadn't either.

"Thanks for coming, Bobby," Dean said.

"Not a problem." Bobby looked at the older brother. "You been here all night?"

"Yeah."

"Has anything happened since we talked yesterday?"

"No. Were you able to turn up anything on this shadow?"

"Not this one specifically, I don't think, but there are stories about something similar in other places."

"What stories?" Sam asked.

"Everything I found is about as vague as what those women told you," Bobby said. "Just people in hospitals reporting seeing weird shadows. Sometimes there's a sound like whispering – the people get pretty scared. I didn't find much in the way of lore."

"What about patients who have seen it? Do they get better?" Sam asked.

Bobby glanced at Dean and the younger man shrugged.

"I don't know. Why?"

"The second woman I talked to said the patients who have seen it get better; even when they shouldn't," Dean explained.

Bobby looked back at Sam. "You think this has a supernatural cause, Sam?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"I brought some books I didn't have a chance to look through before I left. Dean, why don't you take a break? I'll stay with Sam for a while."

That was one of the reasons Bobby had come; to help with Sam so Dean didn't have to be at the hospital all the time, but now that he was there, Dean wasn't sure he wanted to leave. He trusted Bobby, which was saying a lot, and he knew that Sam would be safe with him, but still….He looked at Sam's face and saw it was completely devoid of emotion. His brother was hurting – not just from his ribs - and there was nothing he could do about it. Dean didn't like that. He didn't like it at all.

Bobby must have sensed Dean's uncertainty. "Actually, let me grab a cup of coffee before you go."

He patted Sam's wrist and left the brothers alone.

"Sam."

"It's okay, Dean. I know you probably didn't get any sleep last night."

There was no conviction his Sam's voice.

"I slept okay," Dean lied. "But I want to get cleaned up and see what else I can dig up on this shadow thing."

Sam nodded.

"You'll be okay with Bobby."

"I know." His voice was soft.

"What is it?" Dean asked, moving to the side of the bed.

Sam turned toward the direction of his brother's voice. "I still can't see, Dean. Nothing. It's just black. If the swelling is going down, why is it still just as bad as it was? What if –"

"It's not permanent, Sam. And if it is related to the shadow….We've been up against worse."

"We have?"

"It hasn't even been twenty-four hours. Give it a chance," Dean touched his wrist. "Give me a chance."

"I don't want to need a babysitter for the rest of my life." Sam's voice had taken on an edge of alarm.

"Sam –"

"You don't get it, man! I won't be able to protect myself if I can't see. If –"

"Listen to me," Dean said, gripping both arms. "Either it has a physical cause or a supernatural one, but either way it is temporary. Do you hear me, Sammy? It's temporary."

Sam nodded, seeming to calm down. "Okay."

"Okay."

oooOOOooo

Dean took a shower and changed into clean clothes before going back to work on the case. What he really wanted to do was sleep, but he had to get to the bottom of what was going on at the hospital. He took a few minutes for coffee and food, going over the information he'd gotten from Joanna and Marcy while he ate.

He'd asked why they were following something that seemed to be doing good things. What was wrong with making sick people well, after all? But he hadn't liked their answer and he wondered again if they knew more than they'd told him. He slipped out of the diner booth and paid the bill before walking out of the parking lot, pulling his cell phone from his coat pocket.

"Hello?"

"Marcy, it's Dean. I'd like to talk to you again if you have time."

"All right."

Dean thought he heard uncertainty in her voice. He wasn't even sure why he was about to do what he was, but he didn't feel like he had time to be careful. Normally he and Sam would do as their father taught them; they would research and be as sure as they could before jumping in. But Dean was afraid that his brother's loss of eyesight was related to the shadow and he just couldn't take chances with Sam.

"I don't know what all your tea leaves have told you and maybe you already know this. My brother is a patient in that hospital. We were finishing up another job and he got hurt. He was in a coma for a couple of weeks, but he woke up and he was getting better. Then he saw the shadow and not long after that he couldn't see. The doctor said it was due to swelling in the optic nerve and put him on some medicine, but it's not helping. The swelling is going down, but his eyesight isn't coming back."

"He saw the shadow?" she asked in a whisper.

"That's why I started asking questions. He saw it and followed it to the fourth floor. He said it seemed to lead him there; up to the door of the children's ward. I've tried to find other information about the shadow and a friend has been looking, but….Marcy, have you told me everything you know?"

"Yes. I know it doesn't seem like much after following this thing around for ten years, but –"

"You've never heard of any of the people who have seen it getting sick? All the ones you know about got better?"

"Yes, all of them. This thing has cured cancer, Dean."

"I don't understand why you're following it around."

"Well…."

"Marcy, please. My brother…." Dean knew he sounded desperate. He felt desperate. There was nothing he wouldn't do for Sam.

"Dean, I'm sorry."

"Please tell me why you're following it around."

Dean heard the old woman sigh. "Dean. It….We're not following it. It's following us."

"What?"

"Maybe we should have told you the whole truth in the beginning, but –"

"Ya think?" Dean growled.

"I still don't see what this has to do with your brother."

"Why is the shadow following you around?"

"All right. Fine. I'll tell you everything," Marcy promised. "For real this time. Why don't I come to your brother's room?"

---

"Where's Sam?" Dean asked when he got back to his brother's room and found Bobby alone.

"They just took him off for some more tests; said it would take a couple of hours. I was going to go down to the cafeteria for something to eat and call you."

"How has he been?"

"Sometimes all right. Sometimes not. He slept some."

"I brought him something," Dean said and took the MP3 player from his coat pocket. "I downloaded some audio books for him."

"That should help. He's getting kind of antsy. I took him for a couple of walks just for something to do, but his ribs are still pretty tender."

Dean sighed. "Yeah."

"Let's go downstairs while we can," Bobby suggested, leading the way. "I need something to eat."

"Bobby, I talked to Marcy again. She told me that she and Joanna aren't following the shadow. It's following them."

He turned to look at the younger man. "Well, that changes things."

"Marcy is going to come to Sam's room tonight to talk to us. She said she'd tell the whole truth this time."

"That would be helpful."

---

Sam still wasn't in his room when Dean and Bobby were done with lunch, but Marie was in his room.

"Hi," she smiled. "I just got a call about Sam. He's on his way back up and I was just getting a new IV bag ready. He should be here in a few minutes. I'll be in to get him hooked up."

Bobby watched as she walked out, then looked at Dean. The younger man was staring out of the window. Bobby had only seen pictures of Mary Winchester, but he noticed a certain resemblance between the nurse and Dean's deceased mother. He wondered if Dean had seen it, but decided not to bring it up.

They'd talked about the little Bobby had managed to find about the shadow while they were eating, but they both knew that whatever information Marcy and Joanna had withheld probably changed the entire picture.

"How are you holding up, Dean?"

"I'm all right. I just want to find out what's wrong with my brother, figure out what the hell this shadow thing is and get out of here."

Bobby noted the angry tone and laid a gentle hand on Dean's back. The younger man looked at him with a moment of affection and then turned back to the window.

"Hey, Sam," Bobby said a few minutes later when an orderly brought him back into the room.

"Hi, Bobby," he sounded depressed. "Is Dean here?"

"I'm here, Sammy." Dean turned from the window and moved to the bed once the orderly had everything in place. He put a hand on Sam's arm. "How ya doin'?"

Sam didn't bother answering. He lay back against the pillows and held onto the blanket.

Dean glanced at Bobby, but the older man had no answers.

"Sam, I talked to Marcy again. Turns out that she and her friend haven't been following the shadow. It's been following them. She's going to be here in a while to talk to us about it and hopefully tell the whole truth this time."

Still there was no response.

"What tests did you have this time?" Dean asked.

"Same ones as before," he answered quietly, his face turned away from the sound of Dean's voice.

Once again, Dean looked at Bobby. He shrugged and walked toward the door. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

---

Alone with his brother, Dean sat on the edge of the bed.

"Sam –"

"Don't, Dean. It doesn't matter. The doctor can order as many tests as he wants and it just won't matter. He's not going to find anything. This has something to do with the shadow. I know it."

"Well, then you know I can fix it."

"I'm tired," Sam said, ignoring him.

"You're tired and want to rest or you're tired and you don't want to talk about it now?"

"Either one works for me. Can you hand me the MP3 player?"

"Marcy will be here soon."

"You and Bobby can handle it. I can't do anything."

"That's not true, Sam. You can listen to her and ask questions. Come on, man. This isn't you. You don't give up."

"I haven't given up," he said when the door opened.

"Hey, Sam, it's Marie. I need to change your IV bag."

Just as she had done every time before, she told Sam what she was going to do before she did it. He didn't seem to be paying attention, but Dean suspected that he really was.

"Can I bring you anything?" she asked when she was done.

Sam said nothing and she looked at Dean.

"We're fine, thanks."

She nodded and left after making a few notations in Sam's chart.

"Sam –"

"Dean, please." His voice was barely above a whisper. He turned onto his side, away from his brother. Dean put a hand on his shoulder.

"Okay, Sammy." He took the MP3 player from the bedside table and put it into his brother's hand. "I'll be right back, okay?"

Sam only nodded.

---

Sam was trying not to wallow in depression, but he was having a hard time. He was sure the blindness had a supernatural cause and he knew that Dean would stop at nothing to find a way to reverse it, but he was still finding it difficult to remain upbeat. He felt vulnerable and hated that he was afraid to stay by himself for more than a few moments.

What scared him even more was the possibility that the blindness wasn't supernatural in origin. If it was physical, there was nothing Dean could do to fix it and he knew the doctor was at a loss. He was also worried about the insurance – the longer they stayed and the more that was billed against it, the greater the chance the fraud would be discovered.

He heard the door open, followed by the sound of soft footsteps.

"Dean?" he called, even though he didn't think it was his brother who had walked into the room.

"It's Marie, Sam. I thought you were asleep, I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"I just wanted to check something I forgot to take care of before."

After a moment, Sam sensed her standing close to the bed.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked.

"Can you give me back my eyesight?" he asked, then smiled. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," she assured him. "You know, I have a feeling this is all going to be behind you soon."

"A feeling, huh?"

"I'm not saying I'm psychic or anything," she said with a smile in her voice, "But I have a good feeling about you, Sam."

"I hope you're right."

"The dinner trays will be coming out soon. I might be able to sneak something onto it that is close to edible."

"You don't have to do that."

"Well, we'll see. No promises. I talked to your friend, Bobby, for a little while. He seems nice."

"Yeah, Bobby's great. It will help Dean that he's here."

"It will help you, too, won't it?"

"Yeah."

"Are you worried about your brother?"

"We always seem to be worried about each other. Dean doesn't always take are of himself and I know he hasn't been sleeping all that well. He always puts me first and forgets about his own needs. But Bobby will look after him. He'll try to, anyway."

"Well, then I'm glad he's here."

Sam thought he heard the same regret in her voice that he'd heard in their earlier conversation and he wondered what had caused it. He also wondered why he felt compelled to tell her things.

"How is the pain level? Do you need some more medication?"

"No, thanks, I'm fine."

"Okay, well, the call button is within reach. Do you know where it is?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"Good. Let me know if you need anything. I'm here until morning."

"Thanks, Marie."

"Get some rest, Sammy."

He said nothing, surprised she called him by the nickname that only Dean was allowed to use.

_TBC_


	4. Chapter 4

**Temporary Heroes**

Chapter 4

Author's Note: One more chapter after this one; I'm overwhelmed by and appreciate the response.

oooOOOooo

_Every man builds his world in his own image. He has the power to choose, but no power to escape the necessity of choice.  
_Ayn Rand

oooOOOooo

"I'm worried about my brother," Dean said when he found Bobby in the waiting room down the hall. "It's like he's already given up."

"Yeah, I know."

"I hope Marcy is straight with us this time."

Dean noticed Bobby's thoughtful expression as he sipped a cup of coffee.

"What do you know about that nurse? Marie, I mean."

Dean shrugged. "Nothing really. Why?"

"She seems to be taking a special interest in Sam. And she has a good effect on him."

"Those are good things, aren't they?"

"Probably."

Dean looked at him, suspicion creeping in. "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing," Bobby said and turned away. "Much."

"Bobby…."

"Don't worry about it. Maybe she's exactly what she seems."

"Come on, Bobby, I have enough to worry about here."

"Then don't worry about this."

Dean sighed, knowing he would get nothing more out of Bobby. "I want to get back to Sam."

"I'll be back before Marcy gets here," Bobby said. "Just gonna take a little break."

Dean watched as his friend walked toward the elevator. He knew the old man was suspicious of something, but he trusted Bobby to tell him if there was a reason to be worried.

"It's me, Sam," Dean said as soon as he opened the door. He was glad to see Sam was sitting up in bed.

"Hey. I'm sorry about earlier, okay?"

"Nothing to be sorry about, Sam. I know this is tough for you."

"Yeah, but that's no reason for me to lash out at you."

Dean sat on the edge of the bed. "I didn't take it personally."

"Good. Thanks for the MP3 player and the audio books."

"No problem. I just downloaded some of the stuff you already had marked."

"You wanna go for a walk?"

"I thought you were tired."

Sam smiled shyly. "I was feeling sorry for myself."

Dean stood up. "Let's go."

oooOOOooo

Marcy arrived a little later than she and Dean had agreed on. He made the introductions and then she took a seat in a plastic chair, looking uncomfortable. Dean didn't think it had anything to do with the seat, but more with what she had to tell them. He perched on the edge of Sam's bed, a hand resting inconspicuously on his brother's leg. Bobby had only recently returned from his mystery trip and hadn't said anything about where he'd gone.

"Maybe you should just tell us the whole story," Dean suggested, trying to keep the anger from his voice. He didn't necessarily blame Marcy for his brother's condition, at least not yet, but he hated that she'd lied and caused him and Bobby to go down useless paths in their research.

Marcy nodded, appearing to focus on something over his shoulder.

"About 10 years ago, Joanna and I were working at a hospital in New Orleans. Someone close to me was admitted as a patient and was diagnosed with a terminal condition. I was frantic. Joanna….she had grown up around witchcraft. Her grandmother had been a practitioner but she was long dead. Joanna was only an amateur, but she thought she could help."

She stopped talking and looked down. Dean glanced at Bobby, who already appeared to be annoyed. Over the years, they'd run into more than a little trouble caused by people dabbling in what they didn't understand. He felt Sam tense and patted his leg to let him know that everything was all right.

"Joanna created this shadow?" Bobby guessed.

Marcy nodded. "She's not sure how she did it, even now. She'd intended to get help from people her grandmother had known, people more knowledgeable about the craft than she was, but the shadow….it _helped_ people. My friend, the one Joanna had originally wanted to help, she got better. She shouldn't have lived the month, but she's still alive. We didn't see any reason to get rid of it. In fact, we'd considered making more of these things."

"So, why did you leave New Orleans?" Dean asked.

"Joanna has a daughter in Atlanta and she moved to be closer to her. I decided to follow a few months later. Joanna and I have been friends since grade school. Anyway, we figured we'd left the shadow to do its business in New Orleans, but realized it followed us. Still, it did good things. It cured people. But…."

"But what?" Sam asked in a tone that made Dean think he knew the answer already.

"Other things started to happen. At first we didn't put it together, though."

"Things like what?" Again, it was Sam who asked the question.

"There were unexplained deaths – not in the hospitals where we worked. The shadow still came in and cured people. But elsewhere in the city…."

"Why did you keep moving?" Dean asked.

"Mainly to stay close to Joanna's daughter."

"And the same things happened everywhere you went." Dean noticed Sam hadn't asked a question, but stated what he must have believed was a fact.

"Yes."

"And each time the shadow followed."

"Yes."

Dean thought Marcy sounded ashamed. He looked at his brother and saw anger clearly in his eyes. Dean was almost certain that Sam had figured out the rest of the story and he was pretty sure he and Sam had the same idea.

"Did you ever wonder _how_ the shadow was curing people?" Sam asked.

Dean could feel the anger coming from his brother and his voice was like ice.

"Not at first, but eventually we figured it out," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "And we've been trying to find a way to stop it, but…."

"An eye for an eye," Sam said.

Marcy started to cry softly and Dean looked to Bobby and then to his brother. Sam may not have been able to see, but that didn't dull the expression on his face or the anger coming from his eyes.

"If you've been trying to find a way to stop it, why did you lie to me?" Dean demanded, rising from the bed. "We've wasted all this time and –"

Marcy looked at Sam even though she knew he couldn't see her. "I'm sorry."

Dean paced around the room. He was angry and had no way to vent it. This woman and her friend _were_ responsible for his brother's loss of sight and who knew what else. Sure, some people had been saved, but at the cost of others.

"You can't have wanted help that badly," Bobby said. "If you lied to the one person you knew who could help you."

Marcy wiped away her tears. "We knew Dean was coming. Well, not him specifically, but someone who would be able to fix things. But…."

"What?" Dean demanded, standing in front of her.

Marcy looked at Dean for a moment, but quickly turned away. He knew how frightening he could look when he was angry and he couldn't remember ever being madder than he was right now. It was bad enough that the woman had wanted help and lied anyway, but his brother was an innocent victim of their ineptitude and he had no idea if the effect could be reversed.

"Joanna's daughter was diagnosed with optic atrophy. There's no effective treatment and the diagnosis wasn't early enough to prevent fairly extensive damage. Her eyesight was restored….the doctors are calling it a miracle."

Sam laughed sardonically and Dean turned toward him.

"That's just great," Sam said. "You wanted help, but you wanted to wait until the shadow had cured Joanna's daughter. I hope you're happy."

Dean was surprised by the vehemence in his brother's voice. It wasn't like Sam; even when he was justified in being angry, he often shied away from it.

"I'd really like to storm out of here now, but I think it would lose its effectiveness if I slammed into a wall instead."

"Sam…." Dean began.

"What? You're not going to tell me to calm down, are you? You, of all people?"

"No, I'm not," Dean's voice was quiet, "But –"

"But what? These two women have been picking and choosing who lives and who dies. They've been deciding who suffers and who doesn't. They –"

"That's not true!" Marcy exclaimed. "We didn't know who the shadow would target!"

"But you knew who it would save, didn't you?" Sam spat out and he threw his legs over the side of the bed. "You had no right to play God! No right to mess with people's lives!"

Dean moved to the side of the bed and put a hand on Sam's shoulder. His brother was shaking, probably from fear as much as from anger and Dean just wanted to make everything better for him.

"Get her out of here, Dean," Sam's voice cracked. "Please."

Dean looked at Bobby and he nodded.

"How about you and I finish this discussion somewhere else?" the older man suggested.

---

Sam's breathing had become labored and as soon as he heard the door close, he seemed to fold into himself. Dean sat next to him on the edge of the bed, their shoulders touching. Sam was angry; angrier than he had been in a long time. It wasn't that he wanted Joanna's daughter to be blind, but she shouldn't have been given his eyesight. Marcy and Joanna created something they shouldn't have and instead of really trying to find a way to get rid of it, they used it. Even after realizing that it wasn't totally good; that it saved some people at the expense of others. It was wrong and now he was vulnerable to the supernatural creatures he and Dean fought against. Was it beyond the realm of possibility that he would be targeted now; even more than he had been already?

"What's going on in here?" Marie demanded as she came through the door a moment later. "I heard shouting….Sam, are you all right?"

His ribs hurt and he couldn't slow his breathing.

"Sam, it's okay," Dean said. "You need to relax."

"Back in bed," Marie said. Sam felt her hands gently, but expertly push him back against the pillows. He swung his legs onto the bed and felt the weight of the blanket on him. "Try to take a deep breath and hold it for a few seconds."

He breathed as deeply as he could and put his arm over the burning of his midsection. Dean's hand was on his shoulder and he heard Marie's calming voice directing him to take a breath, hold it and slowly let it out. It took a few minutes, but he was able to calm down and when he did, his ribs hurt less.

"Better?" Marie asked.

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"How about something to drink?"

"Water is fine. Thank you."

A moment later she helped him take a cup of water from her hand.

"Do you need anything else? Pain medication?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks."

"All right. How about you limit your visitors and try to get some rest?"

"I will." Sam agreed. He didn't see the pointed look that she gave to Dean.

Sam lay back against the pillows and slowly sipped the water. He felt better; physically anyway. He was still angry, but he struggled to remain calm. As long as he was still, nothing hurt. When his hand started to shake, Dean was right there to take the cup away.

"I'm sorry I lost it."

"I'm surprised it took so long."

Sam smiled briefly.

"You still think you can fix this?" Sam asked after a moment.

"We know what we're up against now."

"You might be able to stop the shadow, but…."

"I'll fix it, Sam. _All_ of it."

"If I get my vision back, Joanna's daughter loses hers."

"That's the way it was supposed to happen, Sam."

"I guess. Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"What if…."

"What if what?"

"What if the shadow is stopped, but….But I decide to leave other things the way they are?"

"Sam," Dean sat on the edge of the bed. "Why would you do that?'

"I'm just saying what if?"

"I don't know."

"I couldn't hunt."

"No. Not like you do now."

"I could still research; with some modifications. I mean, there are ways to do it without sight. And I could stay with Bobby until I'd learned how to do things on my own."

"Is that what you really want?" Dean asked quietly.

"What I want?" Sam laughed. "What I _want_ is for Jessica to still be alive. I _want_ to be in law school. I _want_ Dad…. I _want_ you to have a real life. I _want _that motherfucking demon to have never come into our lives. Dean, when has it ever been about what I _want_? The one time it should have been, when I went to Stanford? Even then it wasn't. It's never been about what we want, Dean. It's always been about what we _have_ to do."

"You don't _have_ to stay blind, Sammy. You weren't supposed to be. Joanna's daughter was and you wouldn't be doing anything wrong by setting that straight."

Sam didn't respond for several moments. "But what would you do without your geekboy sidekick?"

"Damn straight."

"You should go find Bobby."

"I'm sure he can handle Marcy."

"It's okay, Dean. I'll be all right."

"I know you will."

"Go find Bobby."

"I won't be gone long."

Sam nodded.

---

Sam burrowed under the blanket and tried to get comfortable. He never thought he'd miss a motel room bed. He was tired, he was sore and he had a lot on his mind. He'd talked to the doctor earlier and hadn't been surprised to find out that there didn't seem to be a physical cause for the blindness. The doctor wanted to order more tests, but Sam knew it was useless.

He also knew that Dean was right; he wasn't supposed to be blind and he shouldn't feel guilty about wanting things set the way they were supposed to be. He shouldn't, but he did. That's what was on his mind as he fell asleep.

---

"So, what do we do?" Dean asked Bobby.

"I need to check a few things, but I think I have a ritual that will get rid of the shadow. It would work better if we were in the place where it was created, but a few tweaks should make it work here."

"In the hospital?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna sneak into the basement; see what I can get set up."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know yet."

Dean ran a hand over his short hair and sighed. "Sam was talking about getting rid of the shadow, but not changing anything else."

Bobby looked at him, clearly surprised. "What? Why would he do that?"

Dean smiled sadly. "Because he's _Sam_."

"Well…." Bobby turned away.

"What?"

"I'm not so sure we can change that."

"Excuse me?"

Bobby rubbed his white beard and sat in the closest chair. "You heard what I said. Now, maybe getting rid of that shadow will put it right, but I don't really think so."

"Bobby, we gotta find a way to fix this. Sam's vulnerable without his eyesight. Hell, he's already got the yellow-eyed sonofabitch on his tail….I won't accept that we can't fix it.'

"I'll work on it. I'll be back. You keep an eye on your brother."

"You think something's gonna happen?"

Bobby shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not so sure I trust Marcy."

"I want to take Sam out of here," Dean said suddenly. "Somewhere we can protect right and not with the few trinkets I was able to sneak into his room."

"That's probably not a bad idea. You need help?"

Dean saw Marie walking down the hall from the corner of his eye. "I don't think so."

"Take him to your motel. I'll meet you there later."

Dean nodded and followed Bobby out of the waiting room.

"Dean," Marie called from down the hall. He turned toward her.

"I –" she glanced around.

"I need to get Sam out of here. Tonight. Now." He noticed her expression didn't change.

"You know the doctor won't approve of that."

"And I think you know that isn't going to stop me."

Normally Dean would just take his brother; they'd walked out of more than one medical facility. But something told him that he could trust Marie and leaving with her help would be easier than without it.

She nodded. "I know."

Dean felt something in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't fear; it was much more pleasant than that. He didn't understand the feeling he had for this woman, but he knew she was going to help him.

"I just checked on him," she said. "He's asleep."

"He can sleep later."

"I'll get a wheelchair. Why don't you bring your car around? It'll take me a few minutes to take the IV out." She started toward the nurses' station.

"Marie," Dean called.

She turned back toward him.

"Why are you helping us?"

Marie smiled before turning back around and walking away. Dean hesitated a moment before heading to the parking lot.

---

Sam heard the door of his room open. A moment later he heard Marie's voice softly calling his name and felt her hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, Sammy. We have to get you ready to go." 

"Go? Where?"

"Your brother is getting the car and we're going to meet him downstairs. Your clothes had blood on them, so they're gone, except for your coat. I've got your shoes."

Sam heard her rustling in what he supposed was a closet. A few moments later, he felt her next to him. "I'm going to take the IV out. The medication is pretty worthless, isn't it?"

"Who are you?" Sam asked.

"A friend," she said softly. "Come on. Sit up. We have to hurry."

---

Dean pulled the car around to where Marie had promised to meet him with Sam. He didn't see anyone at first and was immediately worried. Just before panic set in, he saw the door open just before Marie pushed Sam through in a wheelchair. He let out the breath he'd been unconsciously holding and took the car out of gear.

Dean opened the passenger side door as Marie brought Sam closer to the car. He saw the confused look on Sam's face.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy, it's me. Come on, let's get you into the car."

With only a little guiding from Dean, Sam slipped into the passenger seat. Dean turned to Marie, struggling against a flood of emotions.

"Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me. Just take care of your brother. And…."

Dean tilted his head in confusion. "And?"

She laid a hand on his cheek. "Let him take care of you."

He blinked back tears he couldn't explain. "Will….Will we see you again?"

She smiled. "You need to go."

Dean nodded, having to force himself to move to the other side of the car. Marie leaned into the passenger side and whispered something to Sam that Dean couldn't hear. He saw his brother blink several times and nod, his jaw set. She smiled encouragingly at Dean before baking away and shutting the door.

Dean drove off, glancing into the rearview mirror. He hadn't seen Marie go back inside, but she wasn't standing on the sidewalk. He cleared his throat.

"You okay, Sam?"

"I guess," he sounded almost hoarse. "I - what's going on?"

Driving toward the motel, Dean told him about the conversation he'd had with Bobby in the waiting room.

oooOOOooo

"You told them everything?" Joanna asked.

"Yes."

She nodded. "They'll stop the shadow?"

"They'll try."

"And the brother's eyesight?"

Marcy shrugged. "I don't know. It's not right, Joanna. You know that."

"She's my daughter. She thinks she was cured by a miracle."

"She never has to know the truth."

Joanna sighed and walked across the room.

Marcy watched her friend, feeling her pain. She had known Darla since birth and felt as close to her as her mother did. Marcy didn't want her to be blind any more than Joanna did, but that was the natural course of events. She had fought with Joanna after the diagnosis and begged her not to engage the shadow's power. Joanna had been heartbroken and went against Marcy's wishes.

Joanna knew that some innocent person would have to give up his or her sight for Darla to keep hers, but she didn't care. Her daughter was more important than some random stranger. Marcy understood that, but she had begun to feel bad for the people the shadow targeted. She had also started to think that maybe there would be a consequence for her and for Joanna by using its power. The tea leaves had issued more than one vague warning before they predicted Dean's arrival.

She wished they had been honest with him from the beginning. Marcy regretted not just telling him everything she knew in their first meeting. She couldn't change that now and she just hoped that his younger brother wouldn't have to suffer for her mistake.

_TBC_


	5. Chapter 5

**Temporary Heroes**

Chapter 5

Author's Note: And here we are at the end. Hopefully it's as satisfying to read as it was for me to write. Thanks again for the awesome response. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.

oooOOOooo

So you take your chances  
Watchful of the glances  
But don't turn away  
Though the wounds are healing  
Don't tell me the feelings the same

_Temporary Heroes written by N. Trevesick and J. Clee; _

_Performed by Pat Benetar_

oooOOOooo

Dean stopped at a fast food restaurant on the way back to the motel. He helped Sam into the room and moved as many things out of the way as possible before setting the food out on the table. Before joining his brother, Dean salted the window sills and quickly went through the protection ritual he and Sam normally did when they checked into a new place. Since he had been spending most of his time at the hospital, Dean had been lax with the protection at the motel.

He sat down across from Sam and noticed the food was untouched.

"You okay?"

"Who was that woman, Dean? Marie? Was she just a regular nurse?"

Dean didn't want Sam's loss of sight to be a permanent condition, but he was certainly glad his brother couldn't see his face right now. And he couldn't help but notice the childlike tone to Sam's voice. "I don't know, Sammy."

"She looked like –"

"I know."

"Why would she help us? Why did you even ask her to?"

"I….I don't know. I just had a feeling she'd help."

"Dean…."

"Sammy, I don't know, okay?" Even to his own ears, Dean sounded tired. "Let's just eat something and hope Bobby calls soon."

Sam reached for the burger in front of him, but Dean could see he wasn't interested in it. Truth be told, he wasn't hungry himself, but there wasn't much else they could do. Besides, Sam hadn't been eating very well and he needed the protein.

---

With Sam guiding him and throwing out ideas, Dean looked up things on the computer. They'd done their best with the food, but most of it had been tossed out. Bobby had called and said he was getting the last of what they would need and would be there soon.

"You hurting?" Dean asked when Sam shifted in the hard wooden chair and put his arm across his midsection.

"I'm all right."

"Go lay down."

"I said I'm all right." He sounded annoyed.

Dean waited a few minutes before saying anything else. "What did she say to you?"

"What?"

"Marie. When you were in the car; what did she say?"

"She said to take care of myself."

"Anything else?"

"And to take care of you. She said it was all going to work out. Dean…."

He was saved from having to respond by a knock on the door. Sam visibly tensed.

"It's probably just Bobby," Dean said.

"You got your gun?"

"Yeah. Stay here."

Dean made his way to the door, gun at the ready. He heard Bobby call his name and then heard Sam let out a breath. Dean didn't feel at ease until Bobby was inside and even then, he stayed on alert.

---

"You two all right?" he asked. He thought they both looked like hell.

"Did you get everything?" Sam asked him.

"Yeah."

"Did you figure out what that shadow is?" Dean asked.

"I talked to a woman I know who has been practicing white magic for a long time. She's also an expert in black magic, but she only studies it. She said she knows what the old biddies were trying to do when they created it. They only intended the spell to work once, on Marcy's friend, but they created….well, an entity, for lack of a better word. It should have been fairly easy for them to get rid of it, but…."

"What about Sam's eyesight?"

"She said there's a spell that should reverse the effects, but there aren't any guarantees. And it doesn't matter if the shadow is destroyed first or not," Bobby answered. "She agreed to do it, but Sam has to go to her. She doesn't need the girl's cooperation."

"What about Joanna's daughter?" Sam asked quietly.

"The spell, if it works, will reverse what the shadow did."

Bobby couldn't remember ever seeing Sam look so conflicted.

"So, this ritual to get rid of the shadow…." Dean clearly wanted to change the subject.

"Like I said before, it would be best to do it where the thing was created, but next best thing is where it most recently worked, like I thought."

"The hospital," Dean said.

"Yep."

"You can't do it alone," Sam interjected.

Bobby glanced at Dean.

"Sam, you can't stay here alone. You can't protect yourself."

"You did the protection deal, there's salt on the window sills and in front of the door. I'll be okay. It's more likely the shadow will come after the person trying to get rid of it anyway, so you have to go with Bobby and make sure the job gets done."

Bobby knew that Sam was right, but he had to let Dean come to that on his own. If he convinced Dean to come with him and something happened to Sam….

"You come, too, then."

"Dean, I'll slow you down. Besides, it's not like I can waltz into the same hospital I snuck out of."

"I don't like this."

"But you know I'm right."

"Sam…."

"Dean, you need to go with Bobby. I'll be okay."

Bobby walked to the other side of the room and watched as Dean crouched in front of his brother. "You listen to me, Sam. I want you to just….I don't know, stay in bed or something. Don't try to move around. I've cleared everything off the floor an there's nothing between the bed and the bathroom and you've got a straight shot to both from this chair."

"I'll be okay. It's a small room."

"There's bottled water in the refrigerator and I'll leave some pain medication right here on the table."

"You need to go," Sam said again.

"Your phone is charged," Dean said as he stood up. He walked across the room to retrieve it, then put it in Sam's hand. "You call me if something happens, you understand?"

"I will."

"I'm leaving you a gun loaded with rock salt," Dean said as he pulled a weapon from the bag on one of the beds. He checked it and handed it to his brother along with some extra slugs. "It's loaded."

"Thanks."

"We'll be back soon."

"Be careful."

"You, too."

Bobby watched as Dean made a final check of the room. He saw the conflict on Dean's face. He clearly didn't want to leave Sam alone, but he also didn't really have a choice.

"Go, Dean," Sam said, clearly sensing his brother's unease. "I'm not completely disabled – hell, a lot of what we fight isn't always visible, anyway."

"I'll be in the car," Bobby said. He wasn't sure if that would speed Dean's exit, but at least it would give the brother's a little privacy. "Take care of yourself, kid."

---

"Sam," Dean said once they were alone.

"Dean, come on, man. I know you don't like this, but if you don't take care of that shadow soon…."

"Yeah, okay." He laid a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I know you can handle yourself. Just….I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?"

"Go."

oooOOOooo

Dean and Bobby made their way to the basement of the hospital with no interference. It didn't really matter where in the hospital they were, but the basement provided the most privacy for what they had to do. Using the picture from one of Bobby's books as a guide, Dean drew the proper symbols on the floor with chalk while Bobby set out the necessary candles and mixed the herbs.

The idea was that they would summon the shadow by reading the appropriate passage, then trap it within the circle of symbols. From there, a different recitation would send it back to the nothingness it came from. They worked quickly and efficiently while Bobby explained what to expect. After a final check of their preparations, Dean took up his position while Bobby began to read the correct verse of the ritual.

As Bobby read, Dean felt a change in the room and he shifted position, looking around for any sign of the shadow. It wouldn't be easy to spot considering the lighting in the room and the glow of the candles casting odd shadows already, but if the ritual worked correctly, it should be directed to the circle of symbols he'd drawn on the floor.

He saw Bobby glance up from the book for a moment, then look back down and continue reading. Dean didn't even see it approach, but just before Bobby finished the passage, the shadow appeared inside the circle. Bobby saw it too; he looked at Dean and smiled.

"Let's finish this and get out of here," Dean said and Bobby began to read again.

"Noooooo!"

Dean turned toward the source of the shout and was surprised to see Joanna running toward them. He wouldn't have believed she could move so fast and he stepped forward to block her way, surprised when she pushed past him. He saw Bobby look away from the book, but it was just a moment too late.

Joanna ran into him, yelling and trying to hit him. The book fell to the floor as he tried to grab a hold of her hands. Dean ran forward and grabbed her shoulder. She turned on him, a hiss escaping her lips.

"Get the book, Bobby, I'll take care of her!" Dean yelled and Bobby moved away.

With strength Dean never would have thought the old woman possessed, Joanna pushed him. He lost hold on the gun and it fell at her feet. Bobby had the book, but it was no longer on the correct page. Dean saw him falter with it, but his attention was quickly drawn back to Joanna when she pointed the gun at him.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked, holding his hands up. "You wanted my help!"

"Shut up," she said and chambered a round.

"Sonofabitch," Dean muttered.

"You," Joanna nearly growled as she pointed the gun at Bobby. "Leave the book on the floor."

Bobby shook his head. "You'll have to shoot me."

Dean looked at him in shock. The gun was just loaded with rock salt, but he knew from experience that being shot with it would hurt like hell. Bobby bent over and Joanna surprised the men by hitting him in the head with the gun. He collapsed to the floor and Dean looked at Joanna.

He didn't want to hurt her; she was an old woman, after all. He knew he was faster and stronger and he couldn't let her rescue the shadow from the symbols. Dean didn't even chance a glance at Bobby when Joanna began to back away from him and toward the circle drawn on the floor. Without a sound, Dean rushed forward and grabbed the gun. He was shocked when she was able to keep a hold of it.

Dean hesitated only a moment before tugging at the weapon again. He got it away from her, but she stumbled backward and into the circle of symbols. The shadow moved toward her and seemed to almost be absorbed into her skin. He heard Bobby groan and from the corner of his eye, Dean saw him reaching for the book.

"The shadow is inside of her," Dean said.

"I can't find the page," Bobby said, one hand on his head where he'd been hit with the gun.

"Let me," Dean said and took the book from him. "Will this still work?"

"Damned if I know." Bobby staggered and fell to the floor. "Hurry."

After what seemed like hours, Dean found the correct page and began reading the Latin passage. Joanna screamed and Dean hesitated, glancing at her and seeing her writhe, but almost immediately, he resumed reading. He got to the end of the passage and Joanna screamed again. He saw the shadow, outside of her body, and a moment later it disappeared in what seemed to be a flash of fire.

"No," Joanna said, crying. "No."

Dean ignored her and turned his attention to Bobby, helping him into a sitting position.

"You okay?"

"Oh sure. Just great."

Dean gently touched the spot on his forehead and Bobby flinched.

"Sorry. You're gonna have a bump."

"Could be worse. You did good, Dean."

"Yeah," he said, shrugging off the compliment.

Dean had just helped Bobby to his feet when they heard someone calling Joanna's name.

"Marcy," Dean said to Bobby, recognizing the voice. He called to her and a moment later she was there, sitting on the floor with Joanna and holding her lovingly. "Did you get rid of it?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah."

"Good."

"We helped people," Joanna whispered, still crying.

"Shhhh….you know that help came with a price. And we were losing control of it," Marcy said. She looked at Dean and Bobby. "I'll take care of this. You should go."

Dean quickly gathered the important things and stuffed them into his bag. Bobby wasn't completely steady on his feet and Dean helped him walk.

"What about my daughter?" Joanna whimpered.

The men hesitated and Dean saw Marcy shake her head at them. They continued toward the exit.

---

"We'll get some ice on your head back at the motel," Dean said as he opened the passenger side door of the Impala. "I want to call Sam."

Dean got behind the wheel and pulled out his cell phone, dialing Sam's number as he started the car. Sam answered on the third ring.

"Hello?"

"It's me, Sammy. We're done here and on the way back. You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Any change?"

"No," he said in a whisper.

"It's okay. We'll head to Bobby's friend in the morning. She'll take care of it."

"You both okay?"

"It got a little weird. Bobby got whacked on the head, but we're okay."

---

Back at the motel, Bobby lounged in one of the beds with an icepack on his head while Dean told Sam what happened at the hospital. After he answered all of Sam's questions, the trio decided to go to bed. Bobby was suffering no ill effects of being hit on the head, but Dean woke up several times during the night to check on him.

He tried to call Marcy the next morning, but she didn't answer and he left a message. Bobby had a bruise and a slight bump on his forehead, but no headache and they all decided he probably didn't have a concussion. Dean offered to help Sam get ready, but he insisted on doing everything himself. He was able to shower and dress, but decided not to try shaving. He barely had any facial hair, but even a little was more than Dean was used to seeing.

After packing and getting everything into their cars, the group went to a diner down the street for breakfast. It was the first time Sam had eaten in public since losing his eyesight; it was the first time he'd actually been in public and though he was self-conscious, he was determined to finish his food.

Dean didn't particularly care for the way he seemed to be getting used to not having sight. If it had happened in some natural way, Dean still would not have liked the situation, but he wouldn't have felt as bad as he did now. He knew there were millions of blind people in the world who were able to function perfectly well, but that wasn't what he wanted for his brother. Not because there was any shame in it, but because it wasn't his fate. Without the intervention of Marcy and Joanna, things would have been different.

They finished their meals and were on the way into the parking lot when Dean's cell phone rang. He saw Marcy's name on the caller ID display and spoke to her briefly before hanging up.

"Joanna's daughter wants to talk to you, Sam."

"Why?"

"Marcy isn't sure. She and Joanna talked to her last night; told her everything."

"Everything?" Sam repeated.

"That's what Marcy said."

Sam nodded. "I'll talk to her."

"Are you sure? You don't owe her anything, Sammy."

"I know that."

"All right. Let's go."

---

"You don't have to do this, Sam," Dean said again as he parked in front of Joanna's house.

"I want to, Dean. It's okay."

"All right," Dean opened the car door. "Hold on, I'll help you."

Sam was already standing on the sidewalk when Dean got around to the other side of the car. Dean led him to the front door and then helped him get to the couch when Marcy invited them inside.

"Joanna is in bed. She's being pretty melodramatic," Marcy said. "I'm sorry about yesterday. Is your friend all right?"

"Yeah, he's fine," Dean said. Bobby had decided to let the brothers handle this on their own; they planned to meet up outside of town.

A moment later they were joined by a young woman who introduced herself as Darla, Joanna's daughter. She sat next to Sam on the couch and reluctantly Dean followed Marcy out of the room.

---

"Sam, my mom and Marcy told me what happened. I have to say that I was more than a little shocked. I knew my mom used to be involved in….but I had no idea what they'd done. I didn't know about that shadow thing. And….I'm sorry you got involved."

"It's kind of what me and my brother do."

"You go around taking on health conditions that shouldn't be yours?"

Sam laughed. "Well, no."

"Do you think you can change things? Make them the way they should be?"

"Bobby, our friend, he knows someone who can do it, but I –"

"You're going to do it."

Sam noticed it wasn't a question.

"I –"

"I want you to, Sam."

"Why?"

"Because it's the way it should be."

"But –"

"Sam, Marcy told me a little bit about you and your brother. You've helped a lot of people, haven't you?"

"Yeah, I guess, but…."

"You need to keep doing that and if you're blind – but more important than that, I would feel guilty for the rest of my life if things weren't put right," he felt her hand on his. "And somehow I don't think I'd get out Scot-free. I want you to get things to the way they should be."

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely. Do I need to do anything?"

"No. I – Dean's taking me to the woman who can reverse it and she's about five hours away. I don't know what it involves yet, but I can call you before we do whatever it is….she can explain it to us both at the same time."

"I'd appreciate that."

oooOOOooo

With the right knowledge and supplies, the reversal was a very simple process. Andrea, Bobby's friend, explained it to them while Darla was listening on the other end of the phone. She stayed on the line while Andrea performed the necessary steps. She'd told them that their conditions probably wouldn't change immediately and stressed that it might not even work at all. They waited at her house for a couple of hours after the ritual had been completed, but there was no change.

Even without seeing Dean's expression, Sam knew his brother was disappointed. They rented a motel room, ordered a pizza and turned the television on just to have some noise in the room. Bobby got the room next to theirs and after eating some of the pizza, he left the brothers alone.

Sam knew that his brother was trying to keep the mood light for his benefit and he appreciated that, but he wanted to talk about their next steps and what they would do if the reversal didn't work.

"Sammy, we don't have to make any decisions tonight."

"I know, but I'd feel better if—"

"Speaking of feeling better, how are your ribs? Being in the car can't have been good for you."

"I'm all right. They're a little sore, but not too bad."

"You want something for the pain?"

"No, thanks."

"You need anything else?"

"Yeah."

"What?"

"I need you to sit down and listen to me. Please."

Sam heard his brother sight, but a moment later Dean was sitting on the edge of his bed.

"I talked to Bobby and he said I could stay with him for as long as I need to. We both can. I'll learn how to do things without being able to see; I can get a computer that talks, so I can still research….I don't know how many of the books we use are in Braille, but I can learn –"

"Sam –"

"Dean, come on, man. This is important."

"You sound like you've given up."

"I haven't. I'm just trying to be realistic."

"I don't think I like that plan."

"What? Going to Bobby's?"

"No, being realistic."

Sam laughed. "We'll talk about it later, then. I'm tired. You mind if I turn in?"

"No, of course not."

"You can go out if you want. You don't have to stick around here."

"I don't feel like going out. I'll turn in, too."

---

Sam's ribs were bothering him enough to wake him up the next morning. He rolled over onto his back, resting his arm lightly across his midsection. He also had a slight headache and he needed to use the bathroom. He heard Dean's even breathing and knew he was still asleep. It took him a few moments to get out of bed and make his way across the room.

"Dean!" Sam yelled. He walked out of the bathroom. "Dean?"

"What is it?" his brother asked, awake and alert.

"I can see!" Sam laughed.

"What?" Dean sat up and looked at him. "You can see?"

"Yes!"

"How many fingers and I holding up?" Dean asked, raising his hand.

"You're kidding, right?"

The older man jumped out of bed. "Sammy!"

He put his hands on Sam's arms and then pulled him into a hug. "I knew it would work! I knew it!"

Sam returned the hug, ignoring the pain in his midsection. After a few minutes of celebrating, he pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed. "I should call Darla."

"Aw, Sammy. It's not your fault; you didn't do anything wrong."

"I know. And I know it's not my fault. I just…it would be a hard adjustment for anyone."

Dean sat down across from him. "Yeah, you're right."

Sam was reaching for his phone when it started to ring. He glanced at Dean and his brother nodded, then went into the bathroom.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Sam, it's Darla. I hope I'm not calling too early."

"No, I'm awake. I –"

"I know; you got your eyesight back. Congratulations." She sounded genuinely happy for him.

"Thanks. I guess. I'm sorry, Darla."

"Don't be. Really. It was me it should have happened to; it was me it _did_ happen to. It's okay, Sam."

"You sound…happy about this."

"I'm happy that things have been set right."

They spoke for nearly half an hour, then the brothers woke Bobby and told him the news. The three of them went for breakfast before leaving town, all headed to Bobby's. Sam still needed some time for his ribs to completely heal and Dean figured he could use the time to do some preventative maintenance on the Impala.

Sam and Dean talked about Marie again, then they talked to Bobby about her. He admitted he shared their suspicions that somehow she was connected to their mother, but he didn't think the nurse had actually been Mary. He told them that while they were visiting Darla, he'd gone back to the hospital to find the nurse and had been told that she had quit without notice. He'd managed to track down her address, but when he went to the house, she wasn't there. He picked the lock and went inside, but other than furniture and food in the kitchen, there was no sign she had ever lived there. There were no clothes in the closets and no personal mementoes in any of the rooms. Whoever she was, they were all grateful for the help she'd given them, but their suspicions remained.

Once Sam was completely healed, the brothers would find another job and keep helping people. It wasn't just the family business anymore; it was something Sam felt he needed to do. He had committed himself to the hunt after Jessica died in a way he never had before. And again, when his father died. He felt that surge of commitment again now that he'd gotten his sight back and he wanted to do it for Darla as well.

Besides, they still had a demon to destroy.

_Fin_


End file.
